Deep in the dim forest, wild grasses grew in thick patches.
Venomous insects, snakes, and rats scurried about in the shadows, while all manner of beasts—and even magical creatures—were now out prowling and hunting, driven to activity by the time of day.
Although the trees here weren't as tall as those in the Demonbone Forest, which could easily reach hundreds of meters, they were still significantly taller than those on Earth. Trees dozens of meters high were as common as weeds, giving the place a distinctly primeval feel.
Standing on the forest floor, all Orsaga had to do was listen casually, and he could distinguish the calls of over a thousand different animals.
Clearly, the ecosystem here was thriving.
But Orsaga judged that this place probably wasn't very friendly to ordinary people.
If a regular human came wandering into a place like this, dying within minutes wouldn't be surprising. One bite from a random poisonous insect and you'd be done for.
And this wasn't just speculation—it was fact.
In the world of Myling, unless someone had a specific job that required it, normal people rarely ventured deep into the wilderness. Even when traveling, they stuck strictly to the cleared paths and avoided wandering into underbrush. After all, poking your face into random shrubs was a good way to get killed—and with only one life, most people tended to be careful about such things.
But Orsaga was clearly no ordinary person. To him, this place might as well be a little garden. It wasn't even close to the danger level of the Demonbone Forest, where he'd once wandered about freely. The abyssal creatures back then were far more vicious and insidious than anything this world had to offer.
In the Abyss, even a blade of grass could hunt prey or spew venom.
That kind of brutal simplicity was lacking in this world's fauna—which was, frankly, a bit of a letdown for a demon like him.
At the moment, since he wasn't in any particular hurry, Orsaga strolled along leisurely, as if he were window-shopping through the jungle.
To his eyes, the dim forest looked no different from broad daylight, so the lack of sunlight didn't hinder his appreciation of the scenery at all.
Of course, a proper demon always stands out, always draws attention.
And those drawn to him came like moths to a flame—one after another.
Before he'd had time to enjoy his stroll for long, he sensed something approaching rapidly.
A rustling in the bushes preceded the appearance of a massive, four-legged blue wolf that leapt from the shadows into view. Even on all fours, it stood two meters tall.
"Awoo!"
The wolf let out a roar, unleashing a gust of wind from its mouth that transformed into a crescent-shaped, semi-transparent blade hurtling toward Orsaga.
Though the attack wasn't particularly powerful, something about it made his expression change dramatically. He exclaimed in shock, "It's here! A Wind-Elemental Direwolf! And it's using Wind Blade! Could this be... proof that I really am the protagonist?!"
According to legend, the Wind-Elemental Direwolf was the classic hurdle for every Western fantasy protagonist to face in their newbie village.
Yet Orsaga had never encountered one—until now.
In this moment, faced with this long-overdue surprise, Orsaga finally felt like he was receiving the kind of treatment a protagonist deserved.
He made no move to dodge, letting the wind blade strike him directly.
Smack!
The sound was like a palm slapping a wall.
The blade shattered instantly, failing even to damage the magic-forged clothes Orsaga was wearing.
The Direwolf froze, stunned by what had just happened. Its eyes, filled with bloodlust just moments ago, now wavered in confusion.
With its tiny brain, it simply couldn't comprehend how the seemingly powerless figure before it had just shrugged off its attack.
Still, instinct and hunger drove it onward. Its massive frame moved with surprising agility as it lunged forward, covering dozens of meters in a single bound to pounce at Orsaga.
This time, Orsaga didn't just let it happen.
After all, the creature's claws were filthy, and its breath stank. Frankly, he was grossed out—he didn't want to get any of it on him.
His eyes narrowed, and a wave of invisible force rippled outward. The wolf, still midair, was instantly frozen in place—its fur frozen along with it—as though someone had hit the pause button on reality.
Orsaga casually reached out a slender finger and flicked toward the wolf's head. With that motion, the creature's skull was cleanly torn open by an invisible force, the cap of its head landing neatly in Orsaga's hand. Every last drop of blood was siphoned from its body and collected inside, forming a dense, concentrated blood slurry.
After extracting the juice, Orsaga flicked his finger again. The wolf's now-emaciated corpse, dried up like a husk, was launched away like trash, its destination unknown.
Balancing the skull delicately, Orsaga took a sip of his freshly squeezed "juice." Satisfied, he nodded and mused to himself that the classic newbie village boss truly did live up to the hype—the flavor wasn't bad at all. Then, without further delay, he resumed his leisurely stroll through the forest.
Like that, he wandered across rivers, climbed over mountains, and killed whatever beasts crossed his path. After covering over a hundred kilometers...
As dawn finally began to break, he spotted signs of intelligent life.
Intent on asking for directions, he didn't overthink it and simply approached, hoping for a friendly chat.
In the forest ahead, a figure was darting quickly through the trees, carrying a wooden chest nearly half his own height on his back.
Clutching a still-bleeding wound on his waist, Kevin was feeling rather unlucky.
He had been sent out to collect rare materials, and everything had gone smoothly—until the return journey. That was when he'd been ambushed by a notorious group of bandits.
His subordinates were all dead, and he was badly wounded and on the run.
Blood loss was making his mind foggy. Desperate to stay conscious, he forced himself to stimulate his nerves with magic.
"Another half a day and I should reach the city..."
The thought gave him a flicker of hope.
But that hope didn't last long. From the shadows nearby, a sudden glint of steel flashed toward his head.
Without hesitation, Kevin dove forward!
Not only did he dodge the blow, he also rolled several times, putting distance between him and his attacker.
Annoyed at missing the strike, the bandit cursed under his breath, "Damn pig-bastard…"
Then he resumed the chase.
Moments later—
Kevin lay on the ground, drenched in blood. The wooden chest on his back had been split open, its contents spilled everywhere.
His shoulder and leg had taken more hits, and now he truly couldn't run anymore.
Pale-faced, he watched as the bandits closed in.
One of them, still bleeding from a wound, growled darkly to a companion, "That bastard—I'm gonna chop off his limbs and feed him to the beasts alive."
Their leader, glancing at the rare materials scattered on the ground, calculated their value with a blank look and gave a casual nod. "Do as you like."
He never interfered in trivial matters.
Getting the go-ahead, the bandit gave a wicked grin and marched toward Kevin, raising his weapon to make good on his cruel promise.
But just as he reached Kevin and prepared to swing—
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone standing behind his companions.
At some point, a man had appeared—calmly watching the scene unfold.
When their eyes met, the man even gave him a friendly nod, then stooped down to casually pick up one of the rare fruits from the spilled materials. As if he were in his own home, he took a bite and leisurely watched like it was a play.
"???"
The bandit's mind froze, unable to process what was happening.
It wasn't until Orsaga took several more bites—chewing the valuable fruit like an apple and eating half of it—that the man finally exploded in rage, raising his weapon and shouting, "Who the hell are you?!"
Only then did the rest of the bandits realize there was someone standing right next to them.
Startled, they instantly raised their weapons, pointing them at this mysterious interloper.
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T/N:
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